His hands were covered in red. They trembled, shaking from fear. His eyes? He couldn't take them off his hands, couldn't stop staring at the crimson.
"Griv~!..."
The voice called. Slowly, he raised his head toward the sound.
It was dark, completely shrouded in shadows. From that darkness, a battered hand reached out, trembling as it tried to grab him.
"Griv!" The soft, feminine voice called again, fading at the end like a whisper sliding into silence.
"Mo-Mo!"
His own voice shook as his bloodstained hand reached forward, moving on its own toward the desperate hand in the darkness.
"Griv!"
Something felt wrong.
"Griv!"
"Mo-Mom!"
Smack!
A sharp slap hit the back of his head, pulling him out of the dark dream.
"Snap out of it, would you?"
Griv froze, stunned. What just happened?
He didn't want to believe it, but it had happened. He had zoned out, again.
"Griven, do you mind stepping to the front of the class and explaining how history relates to mentioning your mom?" Miss Morella's voice broke the silence. Her tone was that of a teacher who'd lost her patience.
"Come on, Griven, up you go. What's keeping you?" she said again, standing behind him with folded arms.
Griv blinked. His thoughts began to clear, bit by bit, enough for him to realise that everyone in class was staring at him.
"Uhm… ma'am, it's, uhm…"
He didn't even know what topic they were studying. How was he supposed to answer that?
"You can't, can you?"
Her stern tone stung.
Griv stayed quiet, ashamed to admit his confusion in front of the whole class.
But she didn't wait for an answer.
"See, class? This is why you don't doze off during a lesson. Understood?"
He wasn't sleeping… or maybe he was? Griv wasn't sure anymore.
What really happened when he zoned out was never clear to him. He only knew one thing, if he focused too hard, or let himself get swept up by it too much, it would happen.
And it usually ended with losing his sense of realism.
"And Griv," Miss Morella called, "try not to doze off again, alright?"
"Yes, Miss Morella. I won't."
He wasn't really making a promise.
"Good. Now, where were we?" She walked to the front of the class for widespread visibility to continue her lecture.
"You okay?" a soft voice asked from his right side.
Griv turned. "Yeah, I'm fine."
He wasn't.
After staying with Caitlin's family for a month, she could tell when he was lying. They were cousins, and she was one of the few people who really understood him.
"The same dream again?" Caitlin whispered.
Griv sighed and nodded.
Concern filled Caitlin's face. "What are you going to do?"
"Miss Caitlin and Mister Griven," Miss Morella called sharply, "do you two mind including me in your little chat? Or should I leave so you can have the class to yourselves?"
Her sarcasm drew a few chuckles from the class.
"No, ma'am, it's not like that," Griv said quickly, standing up. "I just… I was hoping I could use the restroom for a minute."
Would she believe him? Probably not. But honestly, he did need to clear his head. Maybe splashing water on his face would help him refocus.
"The restroom, huh? Not to continue your nap, I hope?"
"Really ma'am, I promise it's nothing like that."
She stared at him silently for a few seconds, her expression unreadable. Then she toned, "Five minutes. Any longer, and you'll be in trouble. Understood?"
"Clearly, ma'am."
With that, she waved him off.
Griv sighed with relief as he walked out, throwing a quick wink to Caitlin as a promise to return soon.
The hallway was quiet, just his footsteps echoing on the tiles. The silence gave him time to think. He needed that. He needed to breathe.
At the restroom sink, he looked at himself in the mirror. His reflection showed a boy who looked ordinary in every way, black hair, plain face, nothing remarkable.
But his eyes… those were different. In the dark centres of his pupils were tiny silver dots, barely visible, but they shimmered faintly when the light hit them right. In total darkness, they glowed brighter.
He turned on the tap. Cold water splashed into the sink. Griv bent down, scooped a handful, and washed his face.
As he did, something slipped out from under his collar, a pendant.
It was a three-leaf clover design, but there was a small circle in the centre. It looked like a shield that had cracked.
Griv stared at it for a moment, holding it tightly. He looked back at his reflection in the mirror. His face looked exhausted, drained of all energy.
For just a second, the reflection flickered. His face twisted into something else, something half human, half mangled, shadowed and broken.
"Damn it!"
He slammed his fist on the mirror. The glass rattled but didn't break. Griv's weak frame wasn't strong enough to do real damage.
Frustration ate at him, turning his expression sour.
Griv was only fifteen. And as far as hanging on went, he didn't know just how much of it he had left in him. How much longer could he keep living like this?
Five years. That's how long he had spent in the "treatment centre." Five long years locked away because no one believed him.
They said it was therapy. They said he'd get better. But he hadn't. Nothing had changed.
He couldn't tell the adults, they would send him back there. He couldn't tell anyone… except Caitlin.
She was the only one who believed him. The only one who didn't treat him like he was crazy.
He hit the mirror again, softer this time, and took a deep breath to calm himself.
His five minutes were nearly up. He couldn't risk staying any longer. If Miss Morella called his aunt and uncle again, they'd start asking questions he couldn't answer.
He straightened his uniform and headed for the door.
As he opened it,
He froze.
What he saw on the other side wasn't the quiet hallway he'd left behind.
It was chaos.